Improbability
by Natsuki
Summary: A What-If: What if the Scarlet Witch had done more than simply heal Billy's injuries the day she met him? Had she followed up, would she have been there when his powers awoke? An examination of all that could change without Disassembled and House of M.


She returned from her jog in a contemplative mood, and Steve gave Wanda an odd look as she stirred honey into her tea. He eventually placed one broad hand over hers, and she looked up at him, startled. "You've been stirring the tea for the past ten minutes," he said, hunching his shoulders in apology.

Wanda touched the side of the cup. Warm, rather than hot. "There was a boy, during my run," she began. "He'd been bullied." She saw his eyes clear in comprehension even as his forehead crinkled. "I spoke with him for a time, and he wished to be a mutant rather than be someone powerless. I told him that being a mutant generally just made people want to punch you more." She turned her hand palm-up under his, giving his hand a light squeeze in thanks.

"I understand that. Wanting to have some sort of way to stop the bullying." Steve looked away, lifting his hand from hers and straightening to stare sightlessly out the nearest window. She watched his jaw muscles clench, and wondered what memories were going through his head. He turned back, and the distance was gone, a little smile at the corners of his mouth and eyes. "Did he give a name?"

"Billy," Wanda said instantly, then stopped. "No. Funny, he didn't. He just reminded me of a Billy, somehow." She waved it off with her now-free hand, pushing to her feet. "He gave the name of the bully, John Kesler, but never gave his own name."

The smile had faded from Steve's eyes by the time she looked at him again, a crinkle of concern replacing it. "Are you all right, Wanda?"

She shook her head, blew out a breath, and forced a smile. "I'm fine, Steve. Think you're up for some anti-bullying work in local schools over the next few weeks?"

He rubbed the back of his neck as he watched her, then looked up at the ceiling and chuckled. "As long as the world's not being blown up, I can't think of a time I'm _not_ up for anti-bullying work."

"You'll have to make speeches, you know."

"Anything good's got its price to pay. I'll pay that one gladly." He patted her absently on the shoulder before he picked up his mug of coffee and sauntered off. She heard him whistling an old Andrews Sisters standard as he vanished into the depths of the Mansion.

Wanda picked up her phone and dialled a familiar number. "Pepper? Sorry to call asking a favour, but doesn't Stark Industries do some outreach for the local high schools? Could you give me the district superintendent's number? I have a proposal for him. And it'll be good for the Avengers' image..."

* * *

The quiet whoosh of air escaping the cushions and the slam of the car door next to her alerted Wanda to Steve's arrival back. "It was a good idea," he said quietly, "Reminds me of why I got into this into the first place."

Wanda put a bookmark in her scheduler, though her eye lingered on the address they were headed to. It was at the boy's school. "It's... grounding," she said, finding the right words. "Pietro's going to join us at this next one." Watching him, she saw his head drop a little bit, then a wry smile tugged at his lips.

"Be interesting to see how the kids respond to him."

"You'd be surprised." Wanda looked out the window. "Children who've been in bad situations don't tend to respond well to adults who they think won't understand; they don't trust them."

She felt Steve's hand on her arm, over-warm but solid. "Talking about Pietro and you, or the kids?" he asked, voice serious.

"Yes." The car slowed, and Wanda looked back at Steve. "Pietro is, above everything else, brutally _honest_. Think about that." The door opened just before the car came to a stop, and Wanda was tugged out and into a hug before she could protest. She didn't want to.

"A _car_? How boring, sister." Pietro's amused drawl had its usual effect: Wanda laughed and wrapped her arms around him. "I'm offended you didn't ask me along earlier if this is how you've been handling it. Where's your sense of _style_?"

Steve cleared his throat, stepping around the car and offering his hand. "Good to see you, Pietro. How's Luna?"

Though he didn't let go of Wanda, Pietro did manage to shift her under his other arm so he could accept the handshake. "Presently trying to redesign my costume yet again, an endeavour I will make _no_ attempt to stop." Wanda stifled a snort of laughter.

Their reunions were interrupted by an awkward cough from the school gates. The principal, a comfortable-looking woman in her fifties, gestured for them to come in. Wanda paused by the bench she and Billy'd sat on to talk, and again felt an odd frisson of familiarity. Pietro's arm across her shoulder tightened, and he gave her a quizzical look.

"Something feels... strange," she murmured to him. "And this is where it started. Like there's something waiting to happen." His eyes widened, then narrowed, and he nodded. Wanda felt some of the tension ease at his automatic acceptance.

They were just inside the doors, the principal quietly thanking them for not showing up in costume, when the dull roar of the corridors between periods snapped into chaos. _Familiar_ chaos, as they turned a corner and blue-white light crackled behind a boyish shout. Pietro was already in motion, and Wanda cast an instinctive shield around the boy on the ground, feeling the shock of probability and magic that accompanied her own power, but with an unfamiliar mind behind it.

"Just what's going on here?" That was Steve's Captain America voice, and the onlookers began to babble explanations. Pietro had the taller boy by the arm, his lips compressed into a grim line as he spoke in a low tone to him. Wanda moved to the smaller boy, who had his hand over his eyes, fingers clenched in a fist.

"Billy," she breathed, and he opened his eyes, the irises still blue from his power. Familiar eyes, for all that they were brown when he wasn't tapping magic.

"I... I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! Did you do so- no-" His expression crumpled as he lunged away, trying to run, the stylized red A on his backpack making her heart ache.

"We'll handle this." Steve sounded calm and confident, and the look he exchanged with Pietro made her breathe easier. Pietro nodded at her, then arched an eyebrow. She could hear the words plain as day. 'But we'll need an explanation later.'

Wanda didn't waste more time, running down the corridor after Billy.

* * *

At one point, the school must've been more than a high school. There were swings out on the playground, and that's where she found him, stubbing his toes in the sand, his shoulders hunched. He looked up as she approached, oddly defensive and resigned at the same time. "I guess your gift kinda got wasted on me. Am I going to go to Ryker's Island now?"

"I only healed your wounds, Billy. I didn't give you any power or gift besides that." Wanda stared at him, drinking in the familiar and unfamiliar features with dawning maternal greed. Reincarnation wasn't supposed to leave such traces, but her boys had been created out of something stronger and stranger- but- "Captain America and Quicksilver are dealing with it. I came to see you." She took a step closer, crouching in front of him so she could meet his gaze.

He wiped his eyes with one sleeve. "Not much to see, right now. I think I'm going crazy. I nearly killed-"

"No, you didn't, given that Quicksilver was blistering his ears the last time I saw him, and my brother wouldn't do that if he were actually harmed. As first manifestations go, that was pretty controlled." Wanda dug in a pocket and hoped that the packet of kleenex was still in there. Against all probability, it still was, and she saw his eyes widen slightly as she produced it.

"I felt that," he said, and she blinked at him. "Those weren't there a minute ago." He took them all the same, turning them over. "Magic?"

"Not intentional, but probably," Wanda agreed, firmly stomping on the urge to ask all the questions she wanted to. "I've never run across anyone else who uses magic like mine. You are unique." All the things she wanted to say, to ask, to do - she couldn't, not and risk scaring him silly. "We probably have about fifteen minutes before the Captain comes looking, but I can't-"

"The boy's fine," Pietro called. He was approaching from the school, walking instead of running out of deference for a newly-awakened metahuman of some stripe. He stopped a few paces away, looking first at her, then at Billy, his brow creasing in surprise. "Wanda...?"

She shook her head minutely.

hr

Lacking the patience to deal with the aftermath of the nigh-riot in the halls, Pietro'd abandoned the task to Steve, catching his brief nod of acknowledgement before vanishing in pursuit of his sister. He deliberately slowed as he headed into the sun, shielding his eyes before heading for the swings, where two dark-haired figures waited.

The display of power'd been familiar enough for Pietro to be wary, but the brief glimpse he'd caught of the boy's face had brought to mind glimpses of his own in mirrors in his teen years, and the slightly dusky undertone to the boy's New York winter-pale skin was almost as familiar. "The boy's fine," he called, approaching at a smooth pace.

The boy looked up before Wanda did, relief mixing with the bright-eyed admiration Pietro often saw in Avengers fans, but it wasn't that which had him approaching in a flicker-blur, until he was only an arm's length behind Wanda. The fact that she automatically shifted to block any incoming blows told him more than he wanted to know. "Wanda...?" That was a question. "Who the hell is this?" That was so flat as to be hardly a question at all.

Wanda looked back at him, her green eyes steady, but didn't turn to face him fully. "I have my suspicions, but-"

"William Kaplan," the boy interrupted, then faltered. "... Billy." The pit that'd formed in Pietro's stomach deepened. He knew the names Wanda'd given her sons. There were no coincidences in their family, and never happy ones.

Pietro watched as Wanda's expression shifted. He read hope there, followed by pain, and almost reached to rest a hand on her shoulder, but she continued, "This isn't the time to interrogate anyone, Pietro. Remember how I was, the first time I used magic? There isn't a witch-hunt in this case, with the Captain dealing with the boy and no-one hurt, but it's still a world-turning feeling." She straightened, her back still to him, and offered Billy a hand. "I will _not_ let harm come to you, Billy."

This seemed too much for the boy: he took a half-step forward and wrapped his arms around Wanda, letting tears fall as she, in turn, drew him close and smoothed a hand over his back. The look she tossed Pietro over her shoulder when he reached out to do something, anything, held enough warning that he took an involuntary step back. There were few people Wanda'd defend against her brother, but he knew that her sons had (rightfully) been two of them. The churning in his stomach resumed, and he felt the beginnings of a headache. Rather than give in and rub his temples, he slipped into Romani, one of the few language he could be sure they could use with a snowball's chance in Hell of being understood by anyone else. "Wanda. What did you do?"

He remembered when Wanda'd been pregnant, and the happiness she'd had with the Vision, and how there'd even been a brief moment of peace with their father, and then the grief of the boys' deaths. It'd taken a long time for Wanda to move through her grief from that, and Pietro'd been helpless to do more than be there when she wanted him to be. Whoever'd done this, whoever was pulling their strings this time...

"Nothing..." Wanda answered softly in their first language, "... _intentional_, at least." They both knew her powers were as much subconscious as anything. "I think this is my William, somehow. Or..." She looked away from the boy in her arms, at Pietro instead, eyes wide and beseeching. "Am I seeing things?"

He was as she'd claimed: brutally honest. It didn't mean that he couldn't avoid answering questions if he needed to. "There's no such thing as a coincidence." He kept his voice and expression flat. "Not with this family." A thought occurred. "Where's the other one, then?"

Wanda winced and looked away again. "I don't know, but now that I know-" She stopped there. "-We'll _find_ him."

Passing a hand over his face, Pietro switched back to English, watching the boy. "Kidnap him. Sign him out. Get him sent home early. Whatever. We need to sort this out, and we need to do it in private." No Maximoff - or Lensherr - has ever had an easy life.

The boy was either a pawn, or genuine: he looked shocked, but not scared, at the suggestions. If he were genuine, Pietro'd be disappointed to see anything other than courage. "Kidnap...?" the boy echoed, "... uh, if it gets me out of being suspended. But I better call my Mom."

"We're not kidnapping you. We do have to talk to you, thou-" Wanda's voice faltered here. Pietro felt no triumph; he saw how the casual statement of family hit Wanda, though she covered it well. "-gh. Of course. Let's go speak to the principal and the Captain."

* * *

It took time to contact Mrs. Kaplan, and explain the situation in terms that wouldn't have her immediately running down to the school (which she was clearly minded to do, a thing that had Wanda in reluctant sympathy with the woman), and only Steve's quiet assurances that things were under control, ma'am, and Billy's own strongly-worded wishes to go with the Avengers, come _on_ Mom, please, you have no idea how much- kept her from doing so.

The Mansion was the nearest place with the security and comfort that either of them could trust, and to judge by Pietro's expression, he'd have preferred somewhere far more remote. Wanda fought back the urge to pull Billy to sit next to her on the couch rather than the armchair Pietro'd directed him to, and just drank in the sight of her son, fidgeting and wide-eyed, in the mansion she'd once thought would have been a second home to him.

"So, did you tell She-Hulk, or not?" His voice startled her out of her thoughts. "And why the hell do you want to kidnap me?" The stubborn set of Billy's chin was familiar enough that Wanda almost laughed, but caught herself as Pietro replied.

"Yes, because this is sufficiently terrifying and awkward to be a kidnapping." Pietro was fidgeting nervously, she could see. He had his doubts, but he always did around magic.

"Well, there aren't blindfolds and voice-distortion software, or cackling maniacs yammering about power over my parents, but given that my Mom's a psychologist and Dad's a cardiologist, I kinda doubt there'll be supervillains after me or anything." Billy had a good deadpan, but the effect was ruined by the fidgeting that was a slower mirror of the man across the room.

Pietro stared at Billy long enough to silence him "You could show him the picture, for full dramatic effect."

Wanda knew the one he was talking about, taken by the wife of the farmer they'd stayed with the months before their powers had awakened. The two of them, perched in the back of a ramshackle pickup truck. She pulled it from her wallet and perched on the arm of Billy's chair to show it to him. Pietro was suddenly there, tapping the white-haired teen who could've been a mirror for Billy. "That's me. At your age. If it wasn't already abundantly clear. Are you adopted?" Pietro asked.

Billy was whispering under his breath, a litany of quick words that Wanda only caught the last repetition of: "Iwanttokeepthis-" as magic rose and another copy of the photograph popped up. She didn't jump, but Pietro snatched the photo and its copy and vanished for an instant. It was one of the few things that was _theirs_ that photo, and he protected it. Wanda understood, but fixed him with a look as Billy flexed his now-empty hands and looked up. "I didn't mean to do that. Adopted? Not that I know of, but I mean... I don't... my Mom." His eyes were wide as he looked first at her, then at Pietro. "This is so weird. I mean, magic, and you, and-"

"Pietro," Wanda finally said, deciding to take the easier route and address her brother rather than tackle the explanation of just how weird their family's life could get. "Be kinder to your nephew." Billy jerked at that, and she caught herself before she could reach out. "Please."

Billy raised a hand like a student uncertain of their permission to speak. "I'm confused. I..." He hesitated. "My parents are awesome, even if they're embarrassing." Wanda closed her eyes at that, torn between relief and an odd envy. Someone else'd seen all the things she should've. "And I don't know how they're going to take this whole magic ... thing. Much less the idea that I've got some kind of family in the Avengers."

On the heels of Billy's declaration, Pietro spoke up. "We are testing his DNA ten different ways before he has the dubious fortune of being called that, much less 'son' or anything else of the familial nature." His switch to Romani was a relief and a pain for Wanda. "I know you wanted children, but we need to be cautious." The truth behind the words annoyed Wanda. She didn't want to _wait_ to deal with this. "There are a lot of things this can be. I'd like to rule out the bad before we embrace the good."

"Hey, it's a bit rude to talk around me like that. Besides, I'm fine with the testing. It'd make a little more _sense_ than this just... feeling like it's right." Billy looked a little uncomfortable with the declaration, but that stubborn set to his jaw had returned.

"Deal with it," Pietro snapped at Billy.

It was still a truth she couldn't argue. There were no coincidences for them. "I know, Pietro," she said in English, closing her eyes and bowing her head. "But I'm not going to give up hope that what was lost can come back. Would you, if it were Luna who were lost?"

Both heads, dark and light, snapped to stare at her. Pietro was the first to speak up. "How can you ask me to imagine something like that?" he asked, an edge to his voice that Wanda ignored, intent on her point. "If I lost my daughter and she came back to me I'd question it. I'd question who'd use something like that against me, to make me incautious, to make me let my guard down. And I'd question a miracle, when it's rare that anything _good_ happens to this family."

"I ask you because it _happened_ to me, Pietro." Wanda let her weariness seep into the words, and the remembered ache time'd only dimmed rather than erased. "We have few enough good things happen to us that-" She looked back at Billy, who was looking between the two of them with a dawning understanding in his eyes, and let the sentence lapse into silence.

Pietro flicked his hand in a come-here motion. "We're going to the lab. We're getting a DNA sample, and we're sending you on your way. Kindly don't mention this to anyone. Not that they're likely to believe you, anyway."

Wanda watched Billy's eyes spark with irritation. "Like I would." The flatness was an echo of Pietro's own, though she suspected that tossing that comparison out would just annoy both of them. "I get it, okay? You're trying to protect your sister, but let me tell you this: if someone's using me as some pawn or something, I want to know, too." He'd rolled up his sleeves as he'd crossed the room in a few long strides, and the curious blend of defiance and agreement in his eyes was enough to make Wanda push to her feet and rest a hand on his shoulder.

"My sister can protect herself." Both Wanda and Billy started at this, though for, she thought, different reasons. "I'm protecting you." Pietro jerked his head and strode off, clearly expecting Billy to follow him

"I'll go with you. I promise I won't interfere, Pietro, but Billy is under our protection regardless of the outcome."

* * *

Dr. Banner's calm was a balm to high-strung Maximoff emotions; he promised results in a few days after taking cheek swabs and a few strands of hair from Wanda and Billy. He asked no questions, and gave Wanda a sad smile, murmuring, "I hope you get what you want," and making her heart ache for him. Once, they'd spoken about their dreams of the future, and found a great deal in common.

They were left outside the labs, Pietro looking anywhere but at Billy. "I can leave you to take him home. Or whatever else you might want to do," Pietro told her, folding his arms across his chest. "Call his Mom and tell her the story. Have tea. I don't want to interrupt."

That seemed to wake Billy from his daze, just a little. "I'm fine." The tired defensiveness almost made Wanda smile. Instead, she shook her head at Pietro. The first impulses were dying down, leaving a weary understanding in their wake, and she needed someone there to speak to.

She missed the Vision's presence, but buried that longing deep. As Billy's eyes drooped again, Wanda stepped into Pietro's space and rested a hand on his cheek, dropping into Romani. "Please don't go. I know that you were trying to protect me. Thank you. I ... can't protect myself from this, not so easily."

His face, kept determinedly stern, cracked, hand coming up to cover hers on his cheek. "Always," he said, then stepped away, catching Billy as the boy started to slide down the wall, eyes closed. "It seems you were right. The boy's out."

"You know that this is the safest possible place for him, tonight," Wanda pointed out as Pietro picked Billy up just as he'd have done for Luna. She knew he was not as unaffected as he claimed - when she'd been pregnant, he'd doted on her in a way Crystal'd never seen - and so hid the tired smile that tugged at the corners of her lips.

Billy was exhausted enough not to wake as they put him to bed. Probably for the best: his 16-year-old dignity might not have taken it, otherwise. Wanda dropped onto a couch in her quarters, rubbing the heels of her hands over her stinging eyes. She felt the creak of cushions beside her, and let her hands fall. She knew her eyes were red and there were tear-streaks down her cheeks, but they'd seen one another in worse circumstances.

"If the other one looks like me and has super-speed," Pietro began with only mildly-forced levity, "then those rumours are going to have new bite."

The surprise of hearing him make a joke, of all things, had her staring at him before she laughed. Weakly, but it was a laugh nonetheless. "What was I _supposed_ to choose, when it was magic and I barely understood what I asked for save for sons? Twins! Vision, much as I loved him, could hardly contribute DNA to this. So it's... my own. With a little chaos."

"Well," Pietro smirked at her even as he wiped away a tear she'd missed, "At least they'll be incredibly handsome for years to come."

She laughed and leaned into the loose hug he offered, letting some of the tension ease. "Our father's a handsome man, even now," she said, "But I don't want to make his mistakes. I'm not going to take him away from the family who raised him... can you imagine how much worse it'd have been if Magneto'd done that to us?" She froze. "Pietro, how do you even be a parent without second-guessing everything you _do_?"

The pause made it clear that he was thinking, rather than just reacting, to her words. He rested his chin atop her head for a moment before pulling away to look at her. "You pick something, and go with it. It seems to be working so far with Luna. And if you ever realize you're about to do something Magneto'd do, it's-"

"-probably the wrong choice," they finished in chorus, and shared a wry smile. She glanced at the clock. "We should go see if Steve survived the ravening high school horde, and find something to eat. Something to do."

He heard the unspoken 'I'll be fine, as long as I have something to do' and pushed to his feet, tugging her with him. "Right. And the good Captain will more likely understand a 'Sorry, can't explain right now,' better from you than from me, hmm?" He gave her a knowing grin, and she couldn't help the flush that spread over her cheeks.

"Are you hinting that you think I'd like to be more than friends with Steve, Pietro? We may shock you out of your prudishness after all," she teased. "Besides, no. Agent 13 would have my head, and ..." She paused. "We're best as friends, he and I." Summoning up enough mischief to grin at him, Wanda added, "Not that I haven't looked a-plenty."

* * *

Predictably, they found Steve in the kitchen, eating a sandwich, a half-full glass of milk beside him. He looked up as Wanda entered, shadowed by Pietro, and nodded to the two seats across from him. "So I hear we have an overnight guest," he began.

"Just until the morning. His mother agreed-" Under protest; Rebecca Kaplan was a very tenacious woman and some small part of Wanda was relieved to know Billy had someone so determined to protect him. "-to let him stay until he woke, though I'll have to accompany him home tomorrow."

Steve'd risen as they'd seated themselves, and held up two glasses in query. Wanda nodded, Pietro shook his head, and only one glass of milk made its way back to the table. Steve was too polite to eat when others weren't, so he contented himself with his drink. "Could've been a lot worse if I hadn't had my communicator on, and JARVIS caught the sort of talk that other kid was throwing around. I doubt he'll be pressing charges. Same boy who started all this, Wanda?"

She nodded. "And it was the same bully, too. Did the talk go well, in the end?"

"A bully rarely has just one victim, particularly in those sorts of schools." Pietro was fidgeting again, clearly unwilling to be still but doing so for her sake. This was also a subject he cared about. "Did any of the others come forward after the talk?"

"Some. None others with powers that I could tell, thank all that's holy, but still tormented enough." Steve looked out the window. "Seems a bit of a coincidence, you running into that boy again, and him using magic. Did you have anything to do with it, Wanda?" That was the Captain looking at the Scarlet Witch, tactfully, but still checking up on his team.

"Nothing conscious, I promise you that. Unconscious... is why he's staying here tonight," Wanda replied carefully. "Bruce is running the tests. If there's anything more in-depth needed, I'll be sure to let you know."

Pietro tilted his head at her questioningly, and she shook hers a fraction. She wasn't going to explain further. "I'll stay here tonight. Are my quarters still available?" He usually lived out in the city; he trusted far less easily than Wanda did, and being in close quarters with the other Avengers tended to make him twitch after a time.

Steve nodded absently, the intensity of his stare easing as it jumped to Pietro. "You'll always have a home here." His expression softened a little bit. "When're you going to bring your daughter to see us?"

Wanda rose, picking up the empty glass by her elbow and Steve's before running the water to wash them out. There was a dishwasher, and there were robots for picking up, as Tony'd made a deal to avoid all his coffee mugs being thrown out by Pepper, but Wanda needed something to do with her hands to distract her from thoughts of her own (possible) child, asleep in her quarters.

Pietro noticed, but said nothing. She was never certain how much Steve saw, but he said nothing either.

* * *

Billy was quietly thoughtful the next day as one of Tony's cars took them to the Upper West Side. "I'm sorry," Wanda said softly. "This must complicate everything for you."

"Hm?" He looked up. "What, having powers? I've always been different. This... is just more of the same." He looked quickly out the window rather than continue, and Wanda watched him until the driver opened the door.

Rebecca Kaplan was a dark-haired woman with sharp eyes behind square lenses, casually upper-class fashionable in the same way that Jan radiated even in the most relaxed clothing. Wanda couldn't find it in herself to dislike her when she took Billy by the shoulders and pulled him into a tight hug. Instead, Wanda waited to be noticed.

"I've been interested in you since you and your brother first joined the Avengers. It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Maximoff," Rebecca said, offering a hand. "Will you come in and have lunch with us? I'm afraid Billy's brothers are still at school, and Jeff's shift at the hospital is likely to run late, so it'll just be the three of us."

Wanda took the offered hand with a smile. "Wanda, please." Catching sight of their reflections in a pane of glass, she realized they could easily have been siblings, and some of the knotted worry in her stomach eased. "If it wouldn't be an imposition, lunch would be wonderful."

* * *

Billy'd made his escape rather quickly after lunch, leaving Rebecca and Wanda to chat over coffee. They spoke easily of inconsequential things: Rebecca's other two sons, both younger than Billy; Wanda's non-Avengers-related travels, before Rebecca set her cup down on the table with a decisive click and fixed Wanda with a knowing look. "How much trouble would Billy be in if you and your teammates hadn't been there?"

Wanda set her own cup down. "Another student who'd been bullying Billy and others would have been fairly badly hurt," she admitted. "You seem unsurprised by the idea that he has powers."

The answer startled her. "I knew that if he could find a way to make his life harder, he would, and the only way he could do _that_ would be to suddenly develop powers." Rebecca met Wanda's gaze steadily. Not something many could do; she felt her respect for the psychologist grow. "And frankly, the Scarlet Witch wouldn't have insisted on keeping a random boy, no matter how kind, overnight if there hadn't been some sort of incident that tied into magic." Rebecca's knuckles where white where she held her cup, Wanda noticed, for all that her voice was steady.

"He seems to have similar gifts to my own," Wanda admitted. "Are there metahumans in your family history?" She tried not to lean forward hungrily at the question, not to be too interested in the answer, but she thought she saw Rebecca's eyes soften a little.

"No. My husband's father escaped Germany in the War; my own family had already been settled in New York for generations, but no signs of metahuman or mutant abilities." One beringed hand lifted from the cup. "And moreover, I wouldn't care if my children couldn't pass as human. They're mine."

The sharp defense was familiar, and Wanda breathed easier, her grasp on her own cup loosening. "I've seen far too many children whose families fear what they can do, and teach that fear to the children, and then the children seize upon the first person who tells them it's _okay_ to be different, without thinking of what else that person might teach them."

"Speaking from personal experience?"

"Not exactly. There were other factors involved. The need to belong somewhere. Family."

_That_ need has us do some strange things at times. Reach for any possibility."

"Oh?" Wanda's interest was instantly caught, and the same instinct that warned her of a hole in someone's defenses was on alert. She knew Rebecca'd caught the interest, and Rebecca knew she knew, and continued anyway.

"Until Billy came along, Jeff and I'd been told we could never have children." She paused. "I think you're familiar with the pain that can cause, even when the desire for children isn't the central part of your relationship."

Wanda disregarded that badly-hidden prompt, ignoring the stab of empathy. "Something changed, I take it."

"After so long of wishing for it, I'd given up. Started ignoring all the little things I'd done to try to have a child, and ignored the symptoms for about four months - I thought I'd caught a lingering stomach bug during a trip to Europe, visiting some of my husband's family. That turned out to be Billy. After he was born, none of the problems we'd had before existed." Rebecca studied her over the rim of her mug. "I always thought it a little odd, but it's not so uncommon."

Wanda tipped her head in acknowledgement, then pulled out the old photograph, sliding it across the table with her fingertips. "My brother and I, when we were sixteen."

Rebecca looked at the photo casually, then at the doorway, then back at the photo more intently. Wanda followed Rebecca's gaze to where Billy stood, that stubborn set to his jaw. Rebecca took off her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "A resemblance is not the only reason you're here."

Wanda took the photograph back. "No." Quietly. "A resemblance, plus the same gifts, and a feeling I've learned not to ignore. I have no intentions, if this proves to be true, of ... taking Billy from you. You're his mother, the one who raised him. But..." She glanced at the doorway, at Billy. "If this is true, I would like to be /something/, even if that's only a help in training."

Rebecca closed her eyes for a moment, and Billy hesitated in the doorway before stepping over the threshold. "Mom-" he began, and lost the words.

"I've... done a great deal of work with children adapting to finding their birth parents, and the need to do so. Like you said, the need to find somewhere to belong." There was a hint of humour around her mouth as Rebecca looked from Wanda to Billy. "And the best outcomes are always when both parents are involved. So, /if/ this is the case..." Wanda saw her swallow her pride for the sake of her son, and realized again that this was a woman she could - did! - admire. "Then we are going to have discussion about how and when you're involved, because while I doubt I could stop you if you were so minded... I also believe you're a person who understands the worth of boundaries."


End file.
